


Innominate

by eyemeohmy



Series: robot jesus and the average medic [2]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Screwy Alternate Canon, ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-25
Updated: 2014-03-25
Packaged: 2018-01-16 23:16:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1365316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyemeohmy/pseuds/eyemeohmy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's weird, people genuinely caring about his health and general well-being. Even weirder when it's coming from the Prime.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Innominate

**Author's Note:**

  * For [babbling_bug](https://archiveofourown.org/users/babbling_bug/gifts).



> I literally wrote this in response to a panel from one of those cracky TF Kreon comics. The scene in question featured Optimus and Ambulon standing side by side and Doing Things. Joking with my friend, Babs, we decided to ship them simply for the fuck of it, and write something in response to aforementioned scene. Only, this turned out more gen than slash, and is actually relatively serious compared to its source material.
> 
> [This is the panel](https://31.media.tumblr.com/04d029998893d08511c4b0b028a7be01/tumblr_inline_mxpc7xXQh41qfpdk7.jpg), [this is the comic in its entirety](https://31.media.tumblr.com/2664f8714b23c2563c3d455f33ffaae5/tumblr_inline_mxpc5yKD3S1qfpdk7.jpg).
> 
> The title is "innominate" because I didn't want to use "untitled" or whatever. Guess I'm just too hip. *long suffering sigh*

It happened suddenly, almost without warning. His vision turned hazy, like a film had been cast over his optics.

Ambulon cursed lowly, pausing from scribbling on the med-pad to pinch the bridge of his nose. It alleviated some of the pressure, but not much. His vision cleared, however, and that was fine enough. Sighing, Ambulon went right back to work, between jogging down notes and looking over his patient floating unconscious in the CR chamber before him.

Everything was running smoothly. Patient should wake tomorrow. Be discharged—

Ambulon growled as sudden, sharp throbs of pain jabbed his CPU. He jolted, dropping his pad and stylus on the ground, hands mechanically flying to his face. He pushed against his temples, pushed and pushed until dermal plating creaked, rubbing, massaging. The pain lessened; not by much, but something he could work with. Ambulon knew this headache wasn't going to go away, and it would only get worse, but... Work to be done. Ain't no rest for the wicked, even the formerly s--

"You need to recharge, doctor."

Ambulon grumbled to himself. He widened his squinting optics just a crack, their yellow glow dim. His vision was blurry again. He watched as Optimus bent down, picking up the datapad and stylus. The Autobot leader studied Ambulon’s notes, before quickly looking away. “Sorry,” he apologized, offering the ‘pad and pen back, “not my place.”

"It’s… fine," Ambulon mumbled, fingers pressing against his crest. "Nothing you don’t know already, anyway."

Optimus glanced from the unconscious patient back to the medic. He watched as Ambulon held the datapad much too close to his face, optics straining to read, still determined to keep working. “Ambulon,” he said, quietly, and the former Decepticon muttered to himself, furiously erasing something with a scowl. “Ambulon,” Optimus said again, and his voice was stern this time.

Still Ambulon did not hear him--and Optimus knew that was the case. The medic wasn’t ignoring him; he was just too immersed in his work to hear the world outside his overworked mind.

Finally, the Autobot leader stepped right up to his crewmate. “Ambulon,” he said, and placed a giant hand on the datapad, blocking the strangely fuzzy words.

Ambulon’s optics snapped wide open and he looked up; his head spun, something creaked, and he cursed. Rubbed the back of his sore neck. "Ah..."

"You need to rest," Optimus insisted, keeping his tone level.

Ambulon invented. He went to say something, but… sighed instead. He shuttered his optics and grumbled to himself again. “S’pose so.” Ambulon pressed the edge of his stylus between tired, shuttered optics. “It’s just been a while… since I worked a long shift.”

Optimus cocked an optic ridge. “Pharma keep you on a tight, strict schedule?”

"Inflexibly so," Ambulon huffed, shaking his head. He turned, slipping the datapad back in the slot with his patient’s chart. "I used to do better during these long shifts. I’d last at least another… another hour." He nearly dropped his stylus putting it in the slot; Optimus caught it, putting it away for him. Ambulon exvented loudly, disappointed and annoyed.

"You need to recharge," Optimus stated, "you can't expect to do your work thoroughly if you're sick and fatigued." He reached over and pat Ambulon warmly on the shoulder. "You're doing fine, my friend. You don’t need to prove yourself to anyone here. No one is judging you; no one is testing you."

Ambulon looked into the Autobot leader’s comforting gaze. He opened his mouth, swallowed; bowed his head again. This time with shame. Optimus wasn’t entirely wrong, but… “I know,” he mumbled, gazing at the hand on his shoulder.

"I suppose I’ve got to give this lecture to all my medics," Optimus chuckled, stepping aside. "Ratchet has a tendency to overwork himself into exhaustion, too." He turned half-way, nodded to the door. Waited.

Ambulon understood and took lead. His feet were heavy and his backstrut ached. Damn, did he need to rest. Optimus was quick to follow, the two leaving the medbay side by side.

"I’m afraid it’ll take me _a lot_ more overtime before I ever get on the same level as Ratchet," Ambulon smirked.

"You’re not far behind. Ratchet has much faith in you and First Aid. You may even have a shot at becoming CMO one day, when he decides to retire."

Ambulon smiled crookedly. “CMO? I doubt it.”

"Who knows? Sometimes, unexpected things happen to the most unlikely or unsuspecting of people." Like becoming a Prime, for example.

Ambulon understood Optimus was just encouraging him as a leader--maybe even as a friend--but, honestly, he was fine. If he never made CMO, that was okay. He was quite content playing the right (or left) hand man to the head honcho. But when they arrived at Ambulon’s chambers, the former Decepticon felt it necessary to thank the Prime anyway. Not only for his supportive words, but…

Ambulon turned from the doorway and before Optimus could wish him a goodnight, he said, abruptly, “I never did… thank you.”

Optimus looked at him. Patient, listening. He knew Ambulon had more to say, wasn't going to interrupt.

"For… bringing me on board," Ambulon continued, and God, he felt like a vorn-old protoform. He looked into the Prime’s optics. "It’s not everyday an ex-Decepticon gets the chance of a lifetime like… like this."

"Your Decepticon past is just that," Optimus said, "and I prefer to look to the future. You are an Autobot now. And despite your life before, you were always a brother." He bowed his head. "It is unfortunate there are not more like you, who would follow in your foot-steps."

"I’m sure there are many, but they’re afraid," Ambulon replied. They had every reason to be. One being the Decepticon Justice Division. "And I’m not saying I’m any better for actually defecting. I mean, to many people, even Autobots, I’m pretty much a coward."

"Does it bother you?" Optimus asked. "The things they say about you?"

Ambulon shrugged. “Not really.”

Optimus nodded sharply. “Good,” he said. “If anyone should give you trouble, come to me. We’ll address and take care of the problem.” His optics softened. “I know most worry about their pride, and thus choose to keep quiet when there's personal conflict, but I prefer to keep a harmonious crew.”

Ambulon nodded back. “Right.”

"And, besides," Optimus continued, "you came highly recommended by Ratchet and First Aid." He chuckled. "So, you see, you’re not alone here. You've got friends backing you up. Supporting you. And from what I've seen of your work, I believe them."

"Yeah…" Ambulon smiled, weakly. "I know."

Optimus reached out and pat Ambulon on the arm. “Sleep well, Autobot, and relax,” he said, inventing, “you deserve it."


End file.
